


Home Is Where the Jewels Are Kept

by Aviss



Series: Family [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-08
Updated: 2011-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-14 13:38:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviss/pseuds/Aviss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur meets Eames' family. Nana meets her match.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Is Where the Jewels Are Kept

**Home Is Where the Jewels Are Kept**

London ranks high in the Most Awful Places on Earth list in Arthur's books, but for some strange reason Nana is delighted to be there.

And Nana is not an easy person to please.

It might be because of Eames. Well, actually, Arthur _knows_ it's because of Eames and the promise that they're going to finally meet his _batshit insane_ family in the next couple of days. Maybe that's the reason Arthur is feeling nervous and out of sorts.

Or it might be the fucking weather.

Arthur is beginning to understand the reason Eames wears those awful clothes with garish colours all the time: if he was surrounded by gray all day long he'd take to wearing pink and orange himself as well.

"What hotel are we staying in?" Nana asks Eames when they finally get out of Heathrow, getting into a cab.

Eames smiles, though Arthur can see he looks tired from the flight. "Oh, we're not going to any hotel, Mom would never forgive me."

"Where to, love?" The cab driver asks, his accent so similar to Eames' Arthur can't keep the smile off his face. That's one of the few things he likes about England.

"Palace Garden Mews."

Arthur can feel the tension inside the car increasing as they approach their destination, even Nana, who is never nervous about anything, falling silent after the first few miles and just staring out of the window. He doesn't know much about Eames' family, aside that they are nobility and that they are crazy, according to Eames.

He wants to make a good impression, though. Nana already considers Eames part of the family, after all.

The house where the cab stops is smaller that Arthur thought it would be, though by no means _common_. He just assumed that it would be bigger than Nana's. It isn't. It's an old Victorian house, three floors high and with a small garden at the front and another probably at the back.

"This is the _London residence_ , the one in the countryside is freaking _huge_ ," Eames explains as he pays for the cab and grabs their luggage, reading Arthur's mind easily and leading them to the front door and ringing the bell.

The first surprise is the woman who opens the door. She looks like a movie star, all shinny long blond hair and impossible legs, face perfectly made up and a tiny dress covering her curves. She also has Eames' mouth, something Arthur believes should be forbidden and which he can't stop looking at now.

"Robert!" she says, throwing her arms around Eames and kissing him loudly on the cheek. She opens the door wider to let them in. "We weren't expecting you until this evening!"

 _Robert?_ Nana mouths at him and Arthur shrugs. He didn't know about Eames first name. He didn't actually _care._

"Claire," Eames says, a smile on his face and voice. "I wasn't expecting you _at all_ , sweetheart."

"Oh, I'm not going to be the only surprise this weekend." She laughs happily, slapping him in the arm. "When Mom said you were coming for her birthday no one wanted to miss it. Not that she actually allows anyone but you to." She turns to Arthur and Nana then, her smile turning mischievous. "You must be Arthur." She looks him up and down, humming appreciatively. "Well, at least he picked someone who knows how to dress. I'm Robert's sister, Claire."

Arthur extends his hand as a greeting and she sidesteps it, invading his personal space and giving him a peck on the corner of his mouth.

"Hey, he's mine!" Eames protests, but he's laughing, and next to him Arthur can tell Nana is as well.

"Not for this weekend, darling. This weekend he's _ours_." Arthur turns at the new voice, an older and classier copy of Claire entering the room. She is wearing a tasteful dress, the colours muted but still bringing out the shine in her hair and the paleness of her features. She's looking at Eames with fondness on her face, and when she turns to look at Arthur she smiles warmly. "I am Katherine, but you may call me Kat," she says, shaking his hand firmly as a greeting. "And you must be Martha. Where are your manners, Robert? Weren't you going to introduce us to her?"

Eames looks chastised for a moment, and Arthur can't help but smile. He has never seen him looking as young as now.

"You can call me Nana, Kat," Nana says, extending her hand and shaking Kat's, her demeanour not letting on how exhausted she must be after the flight. Kat's eyes are sharp thought, and she looks them up and down.

"We'll have time to chat later. Robert, take them to their rooms so they can rest before teatime."

…

Teatime is a formal affair the likes of which Arthur has not seen before.

Nana is filthy rich, that's true, and she's a lady. She's also from a humble family, and has never lost that steel core that runs through her. She taught Arthur manners, and how to move among rich people, but she has never pretended to be anything except what she is.

Still, she sits next to the Baroness, sipping tea from china cups and nibbling on small biscuits as if she has been born here. They are chatting away about art and the impressionists, a subject that bores Arthur to tears but can keep Eames happy for hours. If it's about art, Arthur much prefers the Early Century and Post War painters no matter how often Eames tells him his taste is boring. This, coming from a man who dresses as if elegance was out of fashion, is almost a compliment.

"I wanted to enjoy at least a quiet afternoon with all of you before my house is invaded by family," Kat says with a smile, depositing her cup on the saucer with barely a whisper of sound.

"It must be lovely to have a big family," Nana says, putting down hers in the same fashion. "My house is too big for me since Arthur moved out."

"But I come to visit as much as I can," Arthur protests, though he knows it's not nearly enough. He travels too much for work, and has spent a lot of time moving from one place to another.

Kat shoots a sharp look at Eames. "Which is more than we can say for you, son."

"Yes, yes, I know," Eames says unapologetically, shrugging. "Can't be in two places at the same time, though."

"We just miss you around here; wait until your Aunt Cecile sees you tomorrow. She's going to read you the riot act for disappearing for half a decade."

"The old bat is going to find a reason to read me the riot act for something or another. What was the last time? That I was still single?" Eames shakes his head amused, though it's easy to see the fondness in his expression and the warmth in his voice. "She believes is a waste I'm not producing offspring to inherit the title."

Kat turns to look at Arthur. "Nothing personal, darling, but had you been a girl, this family would be already preparing your wedding. It's the first time Robert has ever brought someone home."

Arthur isn't really offended by it, though he can't help the twinge of irritation at the Baroness' words. He's about to say something when Nana beats him to it.

"Oh, had my Arthur been a pretty girl you wouldn't be preparing anything at all, Kat," she says sweetly. "Your boy wouldn't have touched her with a bargepole. Queerest thing I've seen in my life, your boy."

Arthur hears a choking sound and turns to Eames in time to see him turning purple, his breath whistling painfully out of his closed throat. He pounds him on the back, and Eames gulps in a breath, still laughing. When Arthur turns to Kat again it's to see her smiling amused at Nana.

"Round one to Nana," Eames whispers in his ear after a while, and Arthur can't help but smile.

…

Surprisingly enough, dinner is not formal at all.

Arthur has been expecting the most lavish feast and having to attend wearing his second to most expensive suit. The best one he's reserving for the birthday party. Instead, Eames just puts on jeans and a sweater and tells him to do the same.

Even Nana is dressed down when they get downstairs.

There's more people around the house and most of the noise comes from the back garden.

"We're having a Barbeque," Claire says, walking past them with a huge punchbowl in her hands, filled to the brim with something reddish and clearly alcoholic. "Carmen made some Sangria for tonight, and some cousins have already arrived!"

In the garden, the scene that greets him is something Arthur has come to associate more with middle class families than the nobility, and he feels ashamed at his own snobbism for believing Eames' family unable to enjoy themselves that way.

"Most of them are not like this, darling," Eames whispers in his ear, clearly reading Arthur's thoughts as if they are etched on his face. "I told you that my family is insane."

Kat is the one commandeering the barbeque, a line of people with empty plates and half full glasses surrounding her. There are about twenty people in the garden, most of them chatting happily in small groups and drinking sangria. In one corner is a table full of bottles of wine, beer and the huge punch bowl of sangria. There are also soft drinks and some bottles of spirits. Next to it another table is sagging under the weight of a million appetizers, people walking to and fro the two tables and grabbing whatever they feel like.

"Rob!"

"Bobby!"

"Robert"

"Oh my, you bastard!"

Everyone seems to notice their arrival at the same time, Eames flinching at the volume of the voices calling him. He grabs Arthur's hand and grips it tightly. "Don't leave me alone with them," he hisses out of the corner of his mouth before smiling, completely insincerely, to a middle aged man who is approaching them. "Uncle Rupert!"

"Bob!"

The next half an hour is a parade of people greeting Eames, telling him off for being away for so long, and just plain ogling Arthur. At some point Nana leaves them alone, wandering to the drinks table and serving herself some sangria. Arthur can't blame her; he would do the same if Eames released the death grip he has on his hand. He probably won't remember any of those people by the next morning, and he's not sure he likes the half of them.

"Let's escape," Eames says the moment they are on their own, and tugs Arthur by the hand inside the house, dragging him through a side door to a small room. The moment they are inside the room he pushes Arthur against the wall and kisses him thoroughly.

"I've been wanting to do this all day," Eames says when they part, licking his lips and earning himself another kiss for his efforts. "I love my family, you know. Only… at a distance. They wear me out."

Arthur doesn’t let him speak more for a while, grabbing his head and leaning in for another of those kisses he likes so much. It was the first thing that attracted him to Eames, his mouth, and he believes it will never come a time he tires of it.

"We should go back outside," Arthur says when he feels things are about to spin out of control. If he keeps kissing Eames, he's going to end up fucking him against the wall, and that is a situation he doesn't want to be caught in.

"Yes, we should," Eames agrees, kissing him again.

They end up taking a bit longer to compose themselves before leaving the room, and when they step into the garden again they head straight for the drinks table before walking up to Kat. Nana is already with her, an apron exactly like the one Kat is wearing covering her clothes and another set of throngs in her hand.

Eames and Arthur share a look, smiling at how involved they seem to be in their conversation.

"Mom never lets anyone handle the barbeque, Nana must have made an impression," Eames says, amused.

"Or raised a stink, I know my Nana."

"Oh, I don't have anything against Robert's choices," Kat is saying, expertly flipping the meat under Nana's intent stare. "If he wants to travel, he can travel; if he wants to be with a man, let him be with a man."

Eames' brows climb up his forehead, and he stops Arthur before they can reach the women, eavesdropping shamelessly.

"What's the problem then, Kat? It doesn't look like you approve of his lifestyle. Is it because he's with my boy, or because he's a thief? My late husband was a thief, and you wouldn't meet a better man in your life," Nana asks, as blunt as ever.

Kat laughs. "Neither. I don't care what he does as long as it makes Robert happy. You steal a painting and they give you time in jail, you steal a castle full of paintings and they give you a title. The trick is to steal big enough, that's what my late husband used to say. I just wish Robert had made his choices this side of the Atlantic, you know."

Nana nods approvingly, and they continue with the cooking.

"Round two to the Baroness," Arthur says, a feeling of warmth spreading inside of him.

…

They are too drunk, tired, and well fed by the end of the night, and the only thing Arthur can manage once they are back in their room is stripping off his clothes and falling asleep.

He wakes up in the morning with a pounding headache, thanks to the sangria, and a very warm Eames wrapped around his body. He's not sure how they ended up like that, he's pretty sure they were given different rooms the day before.

Actually, Eames was in his old bedroom and forbid Arthur to enter it.

Arthur's not going to complain either, because Eames is awake and kissing his neck lazily, his hands moving slowly over Arthur's chest.

"Awake already love?" Eames says, his voice rough from sleep.

"Mmh," Arthur mumbles sleepily and turns inside Eames' arms until they are face to face, leaning forward to kiss him. They kiss slowly, not caring about morning breath or the low moans falling from their lips, their bodies slotting together and sliding against each other. Arthur has no concept of time this early in the morning, only the feel and taste of Eames and the pleasure mounting slowly, his fingers digging on Eames' hips. He comes against Eames' stomach, his body shaking gently and his eyes still closed.

He drifts off again for a few minutes, the light drilling inside his brain the moment he opens his eyes again. "Shower," Arthur says, grimacing at the feel of their semen cooling on his skin.

Eames gives him a peck on the lips. "Yes, shower and then breakfast."

"And ibuprofen."

He's feeling closer to human when he emerges from the bathroom, Eames nowhere in sight. It would be stupid to wait for him to free the bathroom with a house that size, Arthur assumes, and he just puts on some clothes and goes to join the rest of the household downstairs.

His first impression is that he's in a different house. Or maybe a different planet.

The house is packed with people running around, looking busy and mainly bumping into one another. Some of them Arthur recognizes faintly from the previous night, but most are strangers.

He looks around, trying to find a face that is more than vaguely familiar, and is not all surprised to see Nana next to the Baroness, both of them chatting amiably and directing a horde of hired helpers.

"Nana," Arthur calls her, walking up to them.

They ignore him for a second in favour to finish some arrangement with a man holding a folder, and then turn to him as one man. Or woman, actually. It's almost scary to see how well they fit next to each other.

"Oh Arthur," Kat says, smiling. "I wasn't expecting you to be up so early. I take it Robert will be here shortly."

There is a knowing look in her face and Arthur has to fight the blush creeping on his. He's not usually shy or easily embarrassed, but this is his Nana and his lover's mother, and they look like they _know_ what he's been doing this morning.

He's saved from saying anything by Eames' timely arrival. "Are we late for breakfast?" he asks with a smile.

"Actually, there's no breakfast. You have to go out." Arthur looks at Nana surprised. He knows she likes to take control of things, but he had been expecting her to be less forward here. Kat doesn’t seem to mind, though.

"It was Nana's idea to get rid of all the people underfoot while we finish with the preparations," she adds, as if it's the most natural thing in the world that the two of them are together in this. It's hard to believe they met barely one day ago. "Robert, take Arthur to do some sightseeing, or take him to Ozwald's and get him fitted. I think he will find a minute for you both if you tell him I sent you. Just don't come back before teatime."

Arthur is about to protest that they can help around the house when the words penetrate his brain. "Ozwald Boateng?"

"Oh bollocks, mom! Don't get him started!" Eames says with a groan, though he's looking at Arthur amused.

Arthur looks from one to the other, his Nana staring back at him with that self-satisfied smile that tells him she's the one responsible for that. He'd mind being played like that, but he'd love to see Eames in a Boateng's, never mind getting one for himself.

He takes Eames' arm and pulls him in the direction of the door. "We'll just go get something to eat outside," he says, dragging Eames after him.

"I told you Kat, he wouldn't be able to resist it. My boy has a thing for suits."

"Yes, and my boy has a thing for your boy in suits."

"I heard that, Nana!"

"And I heard that, Mom!"

…

When they come back it's late for tea, Nana and Kat wearing twin disapproving expressions on their faces as they regard them.

It's not that they are late on purpose, but Arthur found that The Baroness' name opens more fitting appointments than just Ozwald Boateng's, and he is only human.

"What did you get, boy?" Nana says sternly, though it's easy for Arthur to see that she's not actually angry. She knows his too well for that.

"It wouldn't be a surprise if we told now, would it?" Eames is the one answering, walking past Nana and stopping next to his mother, leaning to kiss her on the cheek. "You'll have to wait with the rest of them to know what Mom's getting."

It's a good thing they stopped on the way back to pick up Kat's present, which Arthur had arranged with weeks to spare. It's also a good thing he never said anything about this to Nana.

"It better be a bloody good present to make up for this, Robert." Kat laughs fondly, pushing her son away. "Go get dressed, you two. Dinner is in an hour."

They start up the stairs, smiling at each other when Nana's voice reaches them. "I'd say another suit at least, your bet Kat?"

"One each; and I wouldn't put a stop in the fitting room of some shop past my son." Arthur feels himself blushing, his mind going over the quick and satisfying make out session they had at Nando's bathroom after lunch. Eames had insisted the greasy and cheap food was exactly what they needed for their hangover, and had been right. "They think we were born yesterday."

Arthur hurries to his room with Nana's and Kat's laughter ringing in his ears.

When he makes it back down, an hour later and dressed in his best Dunhill suit, he's feeling less like an unruly child. The dinning room is filled to burst with impeccably dressed people, all milling about with glasses of champagne or wine in their hands and chatting happily away.

Nana is in the middle of a circle, talking expansively and being the centre of attention. She looks lovely and elegant in a cream dress, her hair done up and her face perfectly made up. Claire is also in the group, her beautiful face turned to Nana in rapt attention, her lips curved into a lovely smile. She's dressing more sedately than when Arthur met her, though it's impossible not to appreciate her stunning curves and prefect legs in the purple long dress she's wearing, strategically placed cuts revealing them.

Arthur scans the room looking for Eames, who he finds in another group surrounded also by his own crowd. Arthur feels his mouth drying at the sight of Eames dressed in a tan three pieces Cerruti. The trip across the pond was worth just for this alone. Right at that moment Arthur wants nothing more than make everyone disappear from the room, approach Eames and unwrap him slowly, as if he was Arthur's birthday present.

"He can be so elegant when he chooses to be." Kat's voice says in Arthur's ear, startling him out of his thoughts and almost making him jump out of his skin. He turns around trying not to look guilty, as if he hadn't been imagining new ways to get her son naked and sweaty.

"Pity he doesn't chose to often," Arthur says, glad that his voice is normal and he's not blushing. He hasn't blushed this much since he was a schoolboy.

"Oh, I'm sure you like him any way you can have him," Kat laughs, hooking her arm around Arthur's. This time the blush is unstoppable, but Arthur can't help but smile at her. This kind of teasing is familiar, and it makes him feel as if he's been accepted. Kat's next words confirm it. "Everyone," she says calling the undivided attention of everyone in the room. "For those who weren't here yesterday, this is Robert's better half, Arthur. No jokes about him being the next Baroness are allowed within earshot."

Arthur groans in embarrassment, the room filling with laughs and toasts and cheers, Eames raising his glass higher than anyone else.

"Welcome to the family."

…

If this is what being part of a large family feels, then Arthur is glad it's just him and Nana on his side.

Dinner _is_ the lavish fest he had been expecting the day before, what feels like a million dishes being put in front of him in rapid succession. The wine is excellent and the conversation boring as hell on his right, where cousin Pierce is droning on and on about the stock market, and embarrassing on his left, where Nana is taking revenge for his lateness by regaling her audience with tales of Arthur's teenager years. There's only so much a person can stand of this, and Arthur is rapidly reaching his limit.

He can tell by Eames' expression in front of him he's also thinking about escaping. His Aunt Cecile is reading him the riot act as promised the day before.

It is Kat who saves him from trying to drown himself in the expensive vintage red; she stands up from her seat presiding the table, and walks up to Arthur, standing behind Pierce.

"Budge over, Pierce, I want to sit with my son-in-law."

Pierce stares at her in shock, but it's easy to see for the expressions around the table this is normal behaviour for Kat. Pierce leaves hurriedly, walking up to Kat's chair and sitting gingerly on it as if it might bite him.

"He's a good kid," she says, signalling for her glass of wine, which is passed from hand to hand until it reaches her, "but he could put a rock to sleep."

This starts what can only be called a game of musical chairs, people standing up and stealing chairs all around the table the moment one is open. It improves the night a lot, a parade of people moving up and down the table, sitting for a few minutes and chatting with Arthur or Nana or Kat until Arthur finally takes the hint and moves as well, picking a place next to Claire and bringing the wine with him.

"My god, Arthur, about time!" Claire says, pushing a plate of untouched food in his direction. "I can't eat anymore!"

"I'm not eating it," Arthur says with a chuckle, eyeing the excellent food warily. "One more bite and my suits won't fit me."

"And there's still dessert," she says, and Arthur's eyes move on their own volition to where Eames is sitting. "Not that one, sweetheart."

Arthur is past the point of blushing, the wine too good and too copious for him to even feel embarrassed by it. He leers playfully at Eames and Claire burst out laughing. "That one's for later," he says, surprised his speech isn't more slurred.

"If you weren't so perfect for my brother, I'll love to steal you," she says, hitting him softly in the arm. "I haven't seen him this happy in ages." Claire is smiling fondly at her brother, the shine in her eyes telling Arthur he's not the only one who has enjoyed the wine more than the conversation.

They spend the next few minutes swapping jokes about Eames, Claire filling Arthur in some of the shenanigans they got up to when they were little.

"That's quite enough, sis," Eames says, appearing out of nowhere and taking the free chair on Arthur's other side.

He's smiling and has loosened his tie, his jacket hanging from the back of the chair he had been occupying before. Arthur's eyes fix on his waistcoat, his hands itching to start undoing the tiny buttons and free Eames from another layer of clothing.

He needs to stop drinking.

"Oh, but I'd love to hear more about when you went to meet the Queen and--"

Arthur is interrupted by Kat's voice rising over the noise of conversations, everyone falling silent to hear what she has to say.

"Before they serve the dessert," she says, her face slightly flushed thanks to the alcohol and the heat in the room. "I want to thank everyone for coming and for the lovely presents you are invited to give me now."

Arthur makes to stand, but Eames stops him with a hand on his thigh. "We'll go last," he says, and they watch as a procession of people approach Kat with gaudily wrapped boxes of every size and plain envelopes. She thanks everyone sincerely, from the old lady with the ruby earrings to the little girl with the paper flowers, the joy on her face impossible to fake.

Arthur can tell that as insane and unusual as they seem to be for nobility, they all care for Kat very much. She is one special lady, just the same as his Nana.

Nana stands up the last of them, approaching Kat slowly. Arthur is shocked to see she has a tiny box in her hand, and wonders what she's going to give Kat. Their present is still inside the pocket of his jacket.

"I know I met you just yesterday," Nana is saying, her voice carrying clear in the silent room. "And my boy probably has something expensive and thoughtful for you. This is not a present, is an open invitation to come visit us across the pond."

Kat opens the box and there is a key inside, actually Nana's set of keys. "Nana!"

Nana smiles. "I know you can afford a good hotel, but the company is better at my house."

Eames and Arthur share a look that plainly shows their shock at this development. They had hoped Nana and the Baroness would get along well, they had never expected for them to hit it off so well after just two days. Arthur is impressed.

"It's our turn," Eames says once Nana is back on her chair, and Arthur stands up a bit unsteadily.

"I hope that if you're giving me a painting this year," Kat says loudly as Eames and Arthur approach her, "You had at least the good taste to steal a good one."

"It's not a painting, Mom," Eames says and Arthur takes the envelope out of his jacket.

"It's just plain theatre tickets," he gives the envelope to Kat with a smile, noting the way she keeps smiling sincerely though there are murmurs rising in volume around the table.

"Thank you Arthur, Robert," she opens the envelope, a thin eyebrow arching up when she sees them. Kat laughs, throwing her head back and letting the sound fall freely from her mouth. " _Noh_ theatre tickets. In Kyoto. With flying arrangements in--in a private jet? And staying at a private residence? For two."

"We have a friend over there, and he'll be happy to meet you and show you around," Eames says, and Arthur is glad they decided to call Saito for that one. "Who are you going to take?"

Kat looks straight to where Nana is sitting. "What are you doing next month?"

Arthur is not surprised now. Not really.

…

It's past midnight when they finish eating, but the party shows no signs of being close to the end. Eames' family is very British in that, nobody is going to retire as long as there is alcohol still in the house.

Arthur can't stand being around them one minute more. Not that he dislikes them, at least most of them, but Eames has been looking incredibly fuckable since the beginning of the night, and the more alcohol Arthur consumes the harder it's becoming to resist it.

He can feel his restrain snapping the moment Eames gets rid of his tie and undoes the first and second button of his shirt, the hollow of his throat indecently exposed to Arthur's eyes.

He's reached Eames' side in a second.

"Would they notice if we disappear now?" Arthur says in a whisper, his body leaning toward Eames who's looking at him slightly unfocused.

"I don't know about them, but _I_ would," Kat says appearing next to Arthur. "Still, you gave me the best present of the evening, and I'm not talking about the trip." She leans forward and kisses Arthur's cheek. "Thanks for bringing my boy. Now, off you go."

It should have been a turn off, and terribly rude of them to vanish under the amused stares of Kat, Nana and Claire, but Eames doesn't seem to care, practically dragging Arthur away from where he's frozen on the spot.

They start kissing the moment they reach the second floor, stumbling their way to Arthur's bedroom and disposing of their clothes without the care they deserve. Arthur knows he'll feel embarrassed in the morning, but at that moment he can't think of anything but the press of Eames' skin against his and the taste of his mouth.

He lands on his back on the bed, spreading his legs invitingly for Eames to fit between them, pressing his body against Arthur's and kissing him messily. He wounds his legs around Eames' waist, urging him wordlessly to hurry up and fuck him, his hands digging into his back.

Eames fumbles for the lubricant, moving away from Arthur for an instant and ignoring his noises of protest. He's back again holding triumphantly the tube in his hand, and he puts it to good use immediately, spreading it on his fingers and opening Arthur with quick and practiced moves. Arthur groans low in his throat, his entire body trembling with arousal, and he lets out a keening noise when the fingers withdraw, Eames sliding inside smoothly. They move together, eagerly and uncoordinated, Arthur breathing inside Eames' mouth, his body tense with need and want.

He feels the pleasure mounting, and angles his hips up to urge Eames to go faster and deeper, speech and all superior brain functions completely lost to him. He comes likes that, still painting against Eames mouth and dragging his nails against his back. Eames is still thrusting inside him when Arthur begins to feel his eyes closing; the alcohol and the exhaustion of the day making him feel drowsy.

Arthur barely retains enough consciousness to feel Eames come inside of him, and he hums appreciatively at the mouth kissing his neck and the hands gently turning him, Eames' body fitting seamlessly against his back.

"Goodnight love," Arthur hears Eames say, and he smiles.

"Night."

…

Arthur groans when the he opens his eyes, a hateful beam of light hitting him square in the face and making his head feel like exploding. His mouth tastes like something died in it, and it's the second day in a row he's waking up with a nasty hangover.

He checks his watch, groaning again when he sees it's barely half past five in the morning, and stumbles blindly out of bed to fix the curtains, banning the sun out of the room. When he crawls back into bed Eames has one eye open, squinting at him.

"Come back here, it's cold."

Arthur does, snuggling closer to the furnace that is Eames' body. "Your family is lovely," Arthur mumbles sleepily, resting his head on Eames' chest. "Crazy, but lovely."

Eames mutters something that might be an agreement and Arthur closes his eyes again.

"When can we put the ocean between them and us again?"

He feels Eames' laughter shaking his warm pillow and the last thing Arthur hears before falling asleep again is Eames' voice saying:

" _Now_ they're your family as well, darling."

…


End file.
